The Helen Bianchin Collection

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HELEN BIANCHIN

Год написания книги

2018

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That left her thirty minutes in which to shower, dress, and fight traffic in order to arrive at the office on time.

She made it downstairs, caught up her laptop, her bag, and turned towards the front door…only to come to a faltering stop as Nicos emerged into the lobby.

For a moment she stood completely still, her gaze trapped in his as he closed the distance between them.

When he almost reached her, her defence mechanism kicked into place and she found her voice.

‘I’m already late.’

‘In which case, a few more minutes won’t make any difference,’ he ventured silkily.

She wanted out of here, with space between them and time caught up with the mundane routine of business to occupy her mind. ‘I have to leave.’

‘No,’ Nicos countered quietly. ‘You don’t.’ He lifted a hand and caught hold of her chin, tilting it to examine her features.

He doubted she’d slept any better than he had. How many times had he soothed her restless form through the night, while battling his own demons?

It mattered little that she’d provided provocation. His reaction to it was inexcusable.

‘What do you want?’

Now there was a question to which he could find no single answer. Uppermost was the most important one by far. He stroked the tip of his thumb over the full curve of her lower lip. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Do you care?’ The retaliatory words were out before she could stop them.

‘Yes.’

She was powerless to prevent the faint quivering sensation that shook her slim frame. ‘I don’t have time for a post-mortem.’

Nicos dropped his hand. ‘Tonight.’

Katrina stepped back a pace, then skirted his tall frame. ‘Before, during, or after we’ve attended the art exhibition?’ She saw his eyes darken, and was unable to resist querying sweetly, ‘You can’t have forgotten?’

‘No. I’ve already checked the day’s diary.’

She turned as she reached the passageway leading through to the garage. ‘I could be late.’

It became the day from hell. Traffic was backed up due to an accident, trebling the usual time it took to reach the city. Consequently it was after nine when she walked into her office.

To discover the computer network was down, and several irate messages from a client company whose head honcho wanted Macbride to supply top quality work for a cleverly worded contract worth peanuts.

There were, Katrina fumed, still men who imagined they could slip anything by a colleague simply because of her gender. She made the call, confounded him with figures and logic, then icily informed him Macbride was not interested in dealing with him, only to have pithy invective heaped on her head.

Just when she thought the day couldn’t get any worse, her secretary relayed,

‘Georgia Burton is in reception.’

Katrina felt her stomach twist at the announcement. It would be easy to insist Georgia make an appointment, with no advantage except to delay the confrontation.

‘Show her in.’ Nerves had her smoothing a hand over her hair and repairing her lipstick. She’d just tossed the capped tube into her drawer when a discreet knock at the door preceded Georgia’s entrance.

The model looked a million dollars in a pale silk suit, an artfully draped scarf, stiletto heels, and perfectly applied make-up.

Katrina indicated one of three comfortable chairs. ‘Please, take a seat.’ In a calculated movement she checked her watch. ‘I have to attend a scheduled meeting in ten minutes.’

‘Darling, five minutes will do.’ Georgia crossed to the plate-glass window and took a few valuable seconds to look out over the city before turning towards Katrina.

‘Nicos and I have struck a deal.’

Don’t let her get to you. ‘Indeed?’

‘I thought you’d be interested.’

‘Why would you think that?’

‘Doesn’t it bother you that Nicos still continues to see me?’

‘Should it?’

‘Yes, considering you’re an obstacle that prevents him being a father to his son.’

‘An obstacle you intend to remove?’

‘I’m glad you get the drift.’

‘That this is a last-ditch effort on your part?’ she queried with deadly softness. ‘How long, Georgia, before due legal process forces the release of your son’s DNA results?’ Her gaze didn’t falter as she mentally sharpened her claws. ‘A day, hours, before your elaborate scheme falls apart?’

‘Nikki is Nicos’s son!’

‘I’m sure you wish that were true.’ Katrina aimed for the kill, and played the biggest gamble of her life. ‘But it’s not, is it?’ Dear Lord, what if she was wrong?

Georgia’s eyes narrowed. ‘Two days ago Nicos was in Brisbane with me.’

‘A meeting which took place in a lawyer’s office.’

‘Is that what he told you?’

‘What if I told you I have a private detective’s report tabling Nicos’s every move?’ She didn’t, but Georgia wasn’t to know that.

‘Then, you have precise details of each liaison.’

Stay calm, Katrina bade silently. She’s merely calling your bluff. Or was she? Don’t go there.

Summoning icy control Katrina stood to her feet and crossed to the door. ‘You’ll have to excuse me.’

Georgia’s features were composed, her voice dripping with pseudo sympathy. ‘He may remain married to you, darling, but he’ll always be mine.’

She swept out the door with the sort of smile that made Katrina want to smash something.